


i'll follow your lead

by DearTheodosia (DapperMuffin)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Dancing Lessons, Established Relationship, F/F, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, talking thru ur issues like goddamn adults for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28618581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperMuffin/pseuds/DearTheodosia
Summary: Eliza teaches Maria how to dance, and Maria learns how to let go of her past.
Relationships: Maria Reynolds/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, past maria/james reynolds
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	i'll follow your lead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [capririusMage_lollipop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/capririusMage_lollipop/gifts).



> this is based on a prompt by my friend pip!!! i dont have the original prompt anymore because i wrote the original months ago, decided i hate it, and only yesterday wrote it again from scratch. i hope everyone, but pip in particular, enjoys this! it's kinda cheesy but theyre cute

All is quiet. The studio sits dark. It's closed today.

There's a noise from outside. If one were to find the direction of the noise, and perhaps determine the source, they would find that someone is struggling slightly to unlock the door.

There's a quiet sound of triumph from outside, and the door opens slowly, letting in a ray of light that widens, illuminating the studio floor and the lines left in tape to mark the dancers' positions. Two figures are lit from behind. One stands tall, her hand resting on the doorknob, and the other hangs behind.

"Where's the light?" mutters the woman holding the key. She fumbles for the switch, hand exploring the wall in the near-dark until she locates what she's been looking for. "That's better!" She flips the switch, and the light turns on. She turns back toward the door, only to notice that the other hadn't followed her inside. "Maria? Are you coming?"

"What is this?" Maria asks. Her eyes cautiously examine the dance studio, not sure what to make of it. She's a beautiful woman at first glance, but if you looked closer, you'd notice the lingering signs of pain; in her eyes, in her face, in the way she seems to sink into herself as if attempting to protect herself.

"You said last week you wanted to learn to dance," the other woman, Eliza, says, smiling brightly.

"So you... rented a dance studio?" Maria asks.

Eliza shakes her head. "A friend owns this place. It's closed on Sundays, so she let me have it for the day. Could you come in, love? We don't want to let the bugs inside." Maria startles. She shudders, as if coming out of her own head and her own thoughts, reminding herself where she is as she grounds herself. She takes a deep breath as she crosses the threshold, and the door, once she's stopped holding it open, closes behind her.

"How do I do this?" Maria asks, less confidently than she'd like to sound. Eliza was right, after all. Last week, she had said she'd wanted to learn how to dance, but it was more of a wistful wish than a hope that it could be made into a reality. She certainly hadn't thought Eliza might try to help her achieve that goal.

Eliza has a minute bounce to her step as she crosses the room. She pulls a chair a little further out into the room, setting her phone down on it as music begins to play. Eliza closes her eyes, listening for a moment before she finds the rhythm. Her dance has a swaying quality to it, a graceful aspect, but what else could one expect from Eliza? /Graceful/ is a concept impossible to separate from the idea of Eliza.

Maria envies the ease with which Eliza had begun to dance. Indeed, it's never been easy for /her,/ but now, she finds herself choked up, her airways not allowing passage to precious oxygen. Eliza doesn't seem to notice, and it isn't her fault. But when she goes to grab Maria's wrist, Maria's forgotten where she is, and who she's with.

"Get away from me!" The way she jerks away is violent, fitting for the situation she's accustomed to but not the situation she's in. She curls in on herself, hands over her face, obscuring the tears that escape her eyes.

A minute passes. Then two. Then three.

Only then can Maria recover, gasping for oxygen like her very wellbeing depends on it. Her vision clears. Eliza's not where she had been, and Maria looks around to find Eliza sitting on the chair she'd pulled out into the room. Her arms pull her knees close to her chest. Maria isn't sure when the music had stopped, but the deafening sort of silence that fills the studio is much worse.

"Liza?" Maria asks hesitantly, voice hoarse. Eliza glances up at the sound, and from the looks of it, Maria's not the only one who's been crying.

"I'm sorry." Eliza tries to smile, but it just makes her appear far more tired. Maria's conflicted emotions tell her she should feel sorry, it's her fault, she's fucked up again—she pushes the feelings to the back of her mind, and they become a menacing hum, a jarring tone underscoring all her thoughts. She'll deal with them later. "I forgot. You're still not very comfortable with touch. Maybe—maybe we should just go home."

"No!" Maria finds herself saying, at sharp odds with the way she feels. But as she examines her emotions, she realizes that, beneath the everything that's seemed to constantly plague her ever since James, there's an earnest desire for Eliza to teach her how to dance. She likes the way Eliza gets excited to teach. "It's not your fault, it's mine." She utters the last half of the sentiment before she's realized she's let it escape, and Eliza grimaces. "I do want you to teach me to dance. You just— we just might need to take it a little slow." She straightens up, squaring her shoulders before she tentatively offers her hand to Eliza. Eliza smiles, and this time it seems real. She takes Maria's hand, allowing Maria to help pull her to her feet.

Eliza changes the track. She adjusts the pressure of her touches, modifies the volume of her voice, and eases Maria into the lesson. It turns out Maria's far from a natural, and she manages to trip over her own feet multiple times. It's embarrassing, and she's self-conscious, but Eliza's sweet giggles each time help her feel more comfortable.

Not much gets done the first day, but Eliza is able to procure more lesson time for each of the following Sundays.

The next week when they return, Maria starts again with renewed vigor. Perhaps she'd taken to practicing on her own in secret, but she wouldn't admit it if she had. Whether or not she'd practiced further, Eliza notes improvement, and her smile is enough to convince Maria this is more than worth it.

As the days and weeks go by, Maria finds it easier and easier to lose herself in the movements. Perhaps the initial assessment hadn't been the most accurate. She hadn't been a natural at first, but from Eliza's point of view, Maria has passed the point where she'd had to be taught, and now the natural talent is able to take over.

Dance awakened something in Maria. Dancing is akin to freedom, and that's really all she's ever wanted. Freedom to be herself, freedom to love, freedom to choose, freedom to just /be./ James had taken that from her. She hates to dwell on it, flinches away from memories of those years, but it's almost as though she can channel that suffering, that trauma, that pain, into dance.

One day, Eliza absently lays her hand on Maria's arm. She instantly realizes what she's done, pulling away with a hushed apology, but Maria doesn't reply. Maria thinks for a moment, and then her eyes, wide, meet Eliza's, and Eliza, although she doesn't understand the reason, understands the emotion in Maria's eyes, and she smiles.

"Just now," Maria says. "It didn't bother me."

"When I touched you with no warning?" Eliza asks. Maria nods, and Eliza exhales. She's relieved.

The informal dance lessons had done more than release Maria from her pain. The light touches, the way Eliza's hands had guided her body, had an impact on her as well. She certainly still has a ways to go, but she's better. And she's healed. She really has.

Maria grins, more excited than Eliza has seen her in all the months they've been together and most of the time she's known Maria. (She'd barely gotten to know Maria when she'd started to notice the signs of abuse.) "Kiss me."

"You sure?" Eliza asks, amazed by Maria's new happiness but reasonably still cautious.

"I'm sure." Maria takes Eliza's hand, the corner of her mouth curling up, and Eliza figures it can't do any harm to kiss her girlfriend.

The initial connection, the moment their lips touch, is like electricity, and before Eliza can caution herself, the kiss deepens. This is new—they've only ever been chaste with one another, for good reason, but this is an important moment. It marks growth, and maybe even the beginning of Maria healing. Trauma can't be fixed with just a few dancing lessons—she'll need therapy for that, but Eliza hates to pressure Maria into sharing something so personal with a complete stranger. That can wait.

"Wow," Maria says. "That was..." She's just as taken by surprise as Eliza, a stunned smile lighting up her features. It suits her. Happiness, that is. "I think... I think I can do the touching and kissing now. But... just that." She blushes. "I'm not ready for anything else yet. Can we still take it slow?"

"Absolutely." Eliza rests her forehead against Maria's, allowing herself a moment to catch her breath and calm her racing mind. "I'll follow your lead, love. Whatever you're comfortable with, and we'll deal with everything else when we get to it."

"I don't deserve you," Maria says. Eliza's of half a mind to tell her off, but she waits to hear what Maria's going to say. "I love you so much, Liza, you don't understand." As Eliza gazes into Maria's eyes, she thinks maybe she does.

"You deserve so much, more than me, more than you think," Eliza says. "I'm sorry he made you think you didn't. But you're beautiful and kind and amazing."

Maria's not healed, not yet, but this is a start. And sometimes, that's all you need.


End file.
